


Application by Ghosts

by Small_Hobbit



Series: A Study By Ghosts [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 04:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12335682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: In which a ghostly Sherlock Holmes and his companions apply themselves to solving crime.





	Application by Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ/DW What If AU's Supernatural Challenge

It is always assumed ghosts are the result of people meeting an untimely death.  And whilst on occasion this may be true, it is equally the case that much loved literary figures of a bygone age may in fact produce their own ghosts in more modern times.  It was thus the characters originally created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle continued their existence fighting criminals in the twenty-first century.

Currently Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were hovering in a warehouse not far from the East India Docks.  The warehouse had been converted into what was described as studios, designed for artists of various types, providing they had sufficient funds to pay the inflated rents.  On the floor of one of the studios was taped the outline of a body.  The room had been busy for several hours, but now it appeared abandoned, with a solitary constable standing guard outside the door.

Once the living detectives had departed, the ghostly consulting detective had been able to begin his own investigation.  “A hundred years, and yet they still miss the most elementary of clues,” Holmes moaned.

Inspector Lestrade, who was also present, said, “Does this mean you know who the murderer is?”

“Not yet.  There are some avenues still to explore, but I am close to solving it.  And I shall need to look at some of the records at the Yard, to confirm my suspicions.  Speaking of which, where is Hopkins?  We’re going to need his computing abilities if we don’t want to wait for John ‘one key at a time’ Watson.”

“I object,” John muttered.

“I left Hopkins throwing balls of paper at the heads of the detectives working on the Skinner case.  He had carefully ordered the photos for them overnight, and as soon as they came in they re-ordered them,” Lestrade said.

“Does throwing paper help them solve the crime?” John asked.

“No, but it relieves some of Hopkins’ frustrations.”

“If he’s still down at the Yard, we might as well join him there,” Sherlock said.

Sherlock disappeared through one of the studio walls, while John took the more conventional route through one of the doors.  Sherlock maintained there was no point being a ghost if one couldn’t go through walls, John said doors led to corridors and were therefore easier to navigate.  Once again John reached the entrance to the building before Sherlock did.

With the three of them once more reunited they headed for the DLR to catch a train.  Sherlock preferred taking a cab, but taxi passengers generally didn’t take kindly to sharing with three ghosts.  It wasn’t unheard of for the passengers to complain to the driver their cab was haunted, and Lestrade said it wasn’t reasonable the driver should lose a fare just because the ghosts wanted a lift.  In a train there was either sufficient space for the three ghosts to travel unnoticed, or it was so crowded the sensation there might be something moving around at head height was the least of the passengers’ problems.

They reached Scotland Yard with only a temporary delay.  They had encountered a pickpocket on their way, and John and Lestrade had entertained themselves by passing backwards and forwards through the man until he felt so peculiar he handed the purse back to the tourist he had stolen it from, with an apologetic “I believe this must be yours.”

Having entered the Yard they soon found Hopkins, who was hanging upside down from a doorway, swinging to and fro.  (Hopkins was the youngest of the quartet of ghosts and occasionally indulged in the sort of juvenile behaviour he would never have adopted had he been a real person.)  He put his finger to his lips to silence his friends – not that there was any particular need, they wouldn’t be heard anyway, but it did draw their attention to the conversation which was occurring on the other side of the doorway.

“It’s back, sir,” a detective sergeant was saying to her inspector.

“What’s back?”

“The thing which everyone denies exists and refuses to call a ghost, even though we all know that’s what it is.”

“How do you know?” the inspector asked, then paused and added, “What’s it done?”

“Caused the sauce dispenser in the canteen to shoot sauce down Anderson’s shirt.”

“That does happen on occasions.”

“But not both the red and brown sauce, sir.”

The inspector started to laugh, decided that was probably not the correct behaviour for a senior officer and turned it into a cough.

“Oh, really, Hopkins,” Lestrade muttered.

“He deserved it.”  Hopkins was totally unrepentant.

“Never mind that,” Sherlock said, “we need you to get into the computer files.”

“No problem.  We’ll use the inspector’s machine, he won’t be back in his office for another ten minutes,” Hopkins said.

They watched as Hopkins logged into the computer.

“You’ve got your own login,” John said.  “I’m impressed.”

“It’s safer than using someone else’s.  I’d have to keep changing to avoid suspicion.”

“Doesn’t anyone notice?” Lestrade asked.

“I don’t think so.  I don’t use it that much.  I occasionally right some minor discriminations, as when some of the sergeants give constables from ethnic minorities a disproportionate number of unsocial shifts.  But they can hardly complain, ‘Someone’s made our rotas fairer!’”  Turning to Sherlock, Hopkins added, “What are you looking for?”

Sherlock told him, and Hopkins rapidly found the necessary entries.

“That’s what I thought,” Sherlock said.  “Come along, John, Lestrade, we have work to do.”

“Thanks, Hopkins,” Lestrade said.  “We’ll see you at home later.”

All four ghosts were now living in 221B Baker Street.  As far as they were concerned there was plenty of space for all of them.  If the tenants there weren’t upset with sharing the flat with two ghosts, two more didn’t make much difference.  And if the tenants didn’t want to share with a ghost they moved out rapidly anyway.

Having solved the crime, all Sherlock now needed to do was arrange for the criminal to be caught.  It might be thought some cryptic messages would be employed, but Sherlock had little faith in such messages being interpreted correctly, and preferred to send texts with clear facts.  In this case three separate texts: ‘Footprint of Size 11 boot found’, ‘John Blaise knew the dead man’ and ‘John Blaise has size 11 feet’ sent to three of the officers involved in the case would be sufficient to cause them to interview Blaise.

The texts would come anonymously from three different mobile phones, which Sherlock would ‘borrow’ from unsuspecting passers-by.  John and Lestrade provided the distraction – a sudden noise, a flapping newspaper – which would give Sherlock the time to send the text and return the phone.

Texts sent they waited for the relevant officers to emerge from the building and get into their cars.  The three ghosts sat in the back of one of the cars as they drove to find Blaise.  There was always the worry that the police would be unable to prove a suspect’s guilt, but on this occasion, Blaise, spotting two police officers approaching his front door, had run out of the back, straight into the arms of a third.

Satisfied they had done all they could, the three ghosts decided to call it a day.  Seeing a half empty bus they leapt on board, and made their way upstairs.  There they found two teenagers throwing food at an old man.  The teenagers rapidly stopped when John and Lestrade threw the food back, and then hurried off the bus at the next stop.

John and Sherlock stretched out on the back seats, leaving Sherlock to thumb through a discarded newspaper to find the report on another case in which he had ‘assisted’ Scotland Yard.

 

 


End file.
